Unwanted Guest
by BlackFeath
Summary: Gin was of a good mood thanks to new informations about Sherry's location. Then he received an unwanted visit. Oneshot Vermouth x Gin


**Unwanted guest**

Gin was looking at the fireplace in front of him. Another day had passed. Another day with the damned Sherry still fugitive. He didn't know how that woman had managed to escape. Twice. The last time due to an unknown detective. Oh, but he would find her, and also her friend detective, and he would make them pay dearly, as any traitor had to: with death by his hands! At the prospect of new blood, he grinned. With the new informations he had acquired it wouldn't take too much time to find her. He was near to his prey.

"You seem quite joyful tonight, Gin. I wonder what has made you so".

A voice interrupted his thoughts, and the grin fell from his mouth with the reconnaissance of the unwanted visitor.

"What the hell do you want, Vermouth?" he growled.

"Oh, it is a pleasure to see you too, Gin".

The annoying voice came once again from the door which had been opened without him noticing. Furious, he threw the half empty bottle on the desk in front him toward the door and in the alley. He heard the glass shattering against the floor.

"My, my, is this the way to treat your guest?" the woman said, annoying him even more with her amused tone, which suggested he had missed his target, and the laughter that followed.

He glared at her while she entered his room with her usual elegance and a smirk on her face. Oh, how much he wanted to erase it. He had just to take his gun from his jacket, raise it against her and pull that damned trigger. There. Her damned smirk would be gone forever along with her pretty face, luscious body and annoying voice. But no. The damned woman had to be the boss's favourite, and so untouchable even to him. What made the situation even more annoying was that his menaces and his glares didn't have any effects on her, but that of making her smirk more. He hated her with all his cold heart, she had too many secrets to be trusted - not that he trusted anyone - and he knew it, one day he would kill her, even if that would cost him his life.

The annoying woman walked toward the desk and took the glass which was still half filled with liquor.

"May I?" she asked while already taking the glass to her mouth and empting it.

"Mmm, Sherry...so you were thinking about the little kitten. But that I know she is still missing, so what has made you of such a good mood?" the woman asked, her voice curious and amused at the same time.

"It's none of your business, and you won't have anything from me, so you can just spare me your annoying presence and get out of my house" he growled, knowing very well what she was trying to do.

But she would fail. He was not like any other men, he wouldn't fall into her stupid tricks.

"You should relax. There's not need to be so tense and hostile. You always think the worst! I was here just to visit my favourite colleague!" she exclaimed, feigning to be hurt by his words, a hand on her chest.

She was an actress, and a good one at that, he had to admit it. With her performance she would have fouled anyone, anyone but him. He knew her better, and her little act made him even more near to take his gun and pull that trigger.

"I'm sick of your games, woman!" he growled, glaring at her.

Her mask fell and the smirk returned to her mouth. Damn her! He took a cigarette and placed it in his mouth. As always she had managed to get on his nerves. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the smoke. When he opened them again she had already circled the desk and she was just in front him. How could she move without making a sound with those damned heels? Her presence was intoxicating to him, as well as her scent. She was too close, already invading his personal space, and also too close to his laptop.

With a flick of his hand he closed and pushed it away.

Before he could push her away too, though, she took a cigarette from his jacket and lit it up using his own.

Smiling, she inhaled and then expelled the smoke in his direction.

That was just too much.

He stood up in a moment, pushing her against the desk while blocking her wrists with his hands in a powerful grip, not worrying about the fact he was surely hurting her. He was glad of that, in fact, and he would have been more glad if her face instead of being relaxed and amused as usual, had at least showed a hint of her pain. But no. She was still smirking.

"My, my, Gin. Didn't know this was what you wanted" she said, her mouth inches away from his own. Both their cigarettes were on the floor, under his feet, but he could still smell the flavour in her breath.

His grip became stronger, but she didn't flinch, and instead assaulted his mouth.

Few seconds and he took a step back releasing her and passing a hand on his mouth, pretending to be disgusted by the kiss. Pretending, yes. He could lie to everyone, but not to himself. He hated her with all his being, but still, he was attracted to her. How could he not? Yes, he was killer, a cold one at that, but at the end of the day he was still a man, and that woman knew it very well.

He coldly followed her movements toward the armchair, where she sat crossing and exposing even more her naked long legs.

"So, you have news about the kitten, don't you?".

He growled, trying to force himself not to look at her. No. He couldn't fall in her trap again. He had to make her leave now!

"Get out! Now!" he finally yelled, his gun few inches away from her face.

But her poker face was still there. She hadn't even flinched. Having a cold assassin with a gun pointed at her didn't seem to affect her at all.

"I don't care if you are the boss's favourite or what, I'm not kidding, Vermouth. Get out now or I place a bullet into your pretty face!" he repeated, the gun now right between her eyes.

"You are promising it very often lately. But…are you sure this is what you really want?" she asked, still smirking, and then she reached for the gun, lowering it till it was right against her cleavage.

He couldn't help but look at her chest, and he didn't do anything when she took the gun from him, putting it on the desk, and then pressed his own hand against her breasts.

Now his body was too affected to resist. He wanted her, damn it!

Growling, he took her in his arms and threw her on the couch, ignoring her laughter and assaulting her. His hands were already undressing her, taking away the black jacket and shirt and ripping off her bra. Hers were busy too. His hat was gone, his upper body already naked, and she was already taking off his trousers, making him growl when she touched a very sensible and hard part of him.

He didn't take the time to free her from her skirt. He just lifted it and tossed their underwears away.

Her hands were now through his hair, and she pulled him to her in a wet and hungry kiss. Growling at her teeth drawing blood from his lips, he finally thrusted into her, already wet and ready, and began to move, earning a sigh from her mouth, still busy with his own.

He wanted her to scream: of pleasure or pain it didn't matter to him, but even when he freed his mouth from hers, assaulting her neck with his teeth instead, she didn't give him that satisfaction, forcing her mouth shut by biting her own lips and clawing his back.

He began to move faster and deeper, his hands moving on her body, his mouth now on her chest, lips and teeth marking her skin. And then yes, he earned her gasps, followed though by his own when she wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him to fill her completely while meeting his thrusts with her own.

They continued to move. One, two, three more thrusts and then they came, together. It would have been almost special, romantic, if it wasn't that there was nothing of the sort between them.

Sex. Only sex. Angry, furious sex with the woman he hated the most, with all his heart.

He remained still over and into her, catching his breath and not worrying about the fact he was crushing her with his weight. She didn't complain, nor she tried to push him away, though, perhaps knowing that it wouldn't have changed anything. Instead, she started to touch his back. She had made him bleed with her nails. Then she moved her hands through his long hair, knowing it would annoy him.

And in fact he shot up, blocking her wrists with his hands and glaring at her. All he met was her amused and satisfied smile. Yes, she had won that war, seducing him once again, but she still wouldn't obtain the informations she wanted.

His eyes darkened, and then he surprised her by meeting her mouth in a hot kiss.

It was the first time he started one of their kisses. Usually he didn't kiss any woman, he didn't take any pleasure from kissing, it was an intimate act that didn't mean anything to him since he wasn't interested in, nor he knew how to love.

To kiss her, though, affected him like a drug. It wasn't a loving act. It was a battle, it was a war. Usually she had always been the one to start him, to annoy him for the most part.

_"I don't kiss"_ he had said the first time, giving her, at the time without knowing it, another mean to annoy him. Then, without knowing it, or better, without wanting to admit it, he had started to like to kiss her.

And so there he was. Engaging her by his own initiative, and resuming their activities, his body ready once again.

* * *

When he woke up the scent of sex and of her was the first thing he noticed. There wasn't any hot body against his own, though.

He stood up. His body tired but satisfied and he looked around.

Her clothes were gone, and she was too. Then he saw the note on his desk.

_'Thanks for the Martini. _

_XXX_

_P.S. Since I didn't want to wake you up I took the informations I wanted by myself. See you soon.'_

The print of her lips followed the message.

He growled and threw the note into the fireplace.

How the hell had she managed to do so? He was sure he had protected the files well enough, she just couldn't have copied them in so little time.

"Next time I'll make you pay dearly, Vermouth. You'll see!" he swore to the flames and the note which was turning into ashes.

* * *

Vermouth smiled, looking at Gin through the window, and then she started the engine of her car.

She hadn't taken the informations from him. She already had them before.

Or better! She had been the one to pass those informations to Vodka! She didn't really know how Gin could trust someone as stupid as that man, but still it was a fortune to her.

After having done that, she just couldn't renounce to the prospective of annoying Gin, pretending to be interested in informations she knew to be wrong.

Gunma? No. The little kitten was in Beika, together with the Silver Bullet.

Oh, what a night! Satisfying by all means! And once again she had obtained what she wanted.


End file.
